


Beast

by Masterofceremonies



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, rated for later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-05-13 10:52:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5704927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masterofceremonies/pseuds/Masterofceremonies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You’re seen as… a monster. The devil. Some ancient force. My people say you’re immortal. Unkillable and unaging. And as a result, you’re powerful. So they somehow managed to capture you decades ago and locked you in this cave. Now, whenever someone goes against the laws of society, they are brought to you. Your darkness cleanses us of their sin.</p><p>So tell me.... why are *you* here?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Cave

**Author's Note:**

> The harvest left no food for you to eat  
> You cannibal, you meat-eater, you see  
> But I have seen the same  
> I know the shame in your defeat

Voices echoed off stone walls, along with footsteps, some heavy, some light, some dragging.

  
“Let me go!” A boy in chains cried out, twisting and thrashing in an effort to free himself. With two guards, twice his size, gripping each arm, it was unlikely his efforts would amount to anything.

  
“Silence. Accept your fate.” A man in a long robe spoke, harshly, from behind the restrained boy.

  
“This isn’t my fate!” He growled, managing to sound pleading and angry at the same time. “This isn’t what I was raised for!”

  
“You were raised to be a companion. Therefore your fate is what your master decides.” The man in the robe replied sagely.

  
“My master would never do this to me!” Desperation crept into the boy’s voice, but he had stopped fighting.

  
“Evidence to the contrary.” The robed man replied dryly, prompting a cry from the boy, animalistic in nature. “Your master gave you away to be punished. You disobeyed him.”

  
“I didn’t! I would never!” He began fighting again, the two guards on either side of him looking entirely fed up with his struggle.

  
“You disobeyed him.” The man’s voice rose to drown out the boy’s cries. “And you have been sent here to be punished, but do not think this is a shameful thing. You act as a sacrifice in accordance with the ancient texts.”

  
“I WON’T I WON’T I WON’T! LET ME GO! I WANNA GO HOME!” He was screaming now, face red from anger, but when the guards stopped moving, he went silent. In front of them was a door. A rather large one, made of wood that melded almost seamlessly to stone.

  
“Will you face your destiny unshackled, or will you go like a beast to slaughter?” The robed man’s voice was low and steely.

  
“I…” The boy’s voice had turned soft, and he shook, whether from fear or rage was unclear. “I’ll go. You can unchain me.” The guards looked back at the man who nodded shortly. One of them produced a key, and the other shifted his grip to hold both the boy’s arms as the first set about unlocking them.

“This cave is a labyrinth. The way out is known only to me.” The man said, gruffly. “So if you try to run, you will starve to death.”

  
Nodding, the boy made no move to escape as the chains fell off him and the guards stepped away. He was silent, and he raised his head, staring down the door.  
“It’s not as if I’m going to survive anyway. Am I?” The boy didn’t look at the man in the robe, but he nodded anyway.

  
“It will be quick. We will be watching.”

  
“How?” At this, the boy turned slightly.

  
“There is a trap door above the monster’s cave. We will watch from there.” He paused, then gestured to the guards who stepped forward and removed a bolt from the door. “Go on then. He will not be waiting by the door, but he will smell you soon enough.”

  
“Am I meant to die wearing this?” He gestured to the simple pants and short sleeved shirt he was wearing. “Barefoot and freezing?”

  
“It does not matter how you die, boy. Now stop biding your time and get on with it.” The man snapped.

  
Without another word, the boy stepped forward and opened the door, not pausing as he walked into the cave. He heard the door slam shut behind him, leaving him in something just short of complete darkness. Squinting upwards, he saw the faint outline of what must be the trapdoor. It was easily 20 feet in the air, nothing he’d be able to escape through. Reaching out to touch the wall of the cave, he found it perfectly smooth. So no chance of climbing out either.

  
He suddenly became aware of breath, not his own, echoing off the cave’s walls. Part of him, very foolishly, wanted to call out “hello” but he bit his tongue and instead focused on not running. His eyes adjusted slightly and he made out a shadowy form, either crouched or reclining across the room. The only detail he could see was a grey eye, fixed firmly on him.

  
His mouth went dry and he started to shake, the need to scream or run or cry building inside of him. Instead of collapsing into a puddle of tears, he took in a shuddering breath, trying to calm himself. A chant he knew from festivals came to mind, and, seeing as he had nothing to lose, he began to recite under his breath.

  
“No one ever told me, that this would be easy. But I never knew, that it could be this hard.” The robed man, the priest, said he would be watching. But he had to make it out of the cave first. What if the monster devoured him before they made it to the trapdoor? Why did he even care if there was a witness to his death?

  
With that thought in mind, he started to chant louder, as if daring the monster to approach. “Oh the worry the worry the worry is weighing on me. Could you help me break down all these question marks?” The eye moved, as if the thing attached was tilting it’s head curiously, but the shadowy form didn’t budge from the corner.

  
“And make me…” Something in him screamed that this was stupid, that he should rush the thing and try to die fighting, or close his eyes and pray to a god he stopped believing in long ago, but for whatever reason, the chant was helping him stay calm. Or whatever level of calm included wanting to throw up and cry. “Brave. I’ll fight like a soldier. Rise like a warrior. Won’t stop till the final day.”

  
The shadow moved, lengthening, as the monster stood. The boy still couldn’t make out any details, and his voice wavered, but the thing didn’t approach. “I want to be stronger. Gonna be bolder. Look up and I see the way. You make me brave.” His eyes glanced to the trapdoor, but it remained shut. What if the priest had lied?

  
“None go with me. Still I’ll follow. Through the joy and through the sorrow. Cross before me. World behind me. There’s no turning back.” The trapdoor suddenly flew open and light flooded the cave. The boy winced, covering his eyes at the sudden assault to his senses. When his eyes adjusted, he lowered his hand, and nearly screamed. The monster was in front of him.

  
But… it wasn’t a monster. It was a man. A large man, to be sure, and intimidating, but he had arms, and legs, and a mouth and… one eye? The boy took a step backwards, and found himself pressed against the wall. The monst- the man moved closer, and the boy let out a choked noise, closing his eyes and tensing in preparation for pain.

  
When none came, he risked opening his eyes slightly, just enough to see why he hadn’t been killed. The man was still in front of him, steely grey eye moving slowly over his body with a serious expression on his face, but nothing close to rage or hatred… or hunger. He noticed, with interest, that the other man’s hair was white. Dirty, indeed, as was the rest of him, but white, none the less. He let his eyes open more, and he looked over the man as he himself was examined.

  
He was easily a foot taller than him, with massive shoulders and arms that looked like they could break through solid rock with ease. His right eyes was missing, the skin around the empty socket scarred heavily. He had a beard, or a goatee, rather, that was surprisingly well kempt. The definition of his muscles looked almost fake, like someone’s drawing of Hercules rather than an actual man. The only clothes the man wore were a simple pair of pants that fell to mid-calf.

  
The boy was so enraptured by the mysterious sight in front of him, that he had forgotten to be afraid. When one of the man’s hands moved towards him, however, fear came rushing back to him and he flinched, letting out am oddly powerful snarl. The man paused for a moment, but continued reaching for the young boy, letting the back of his hand brush against his cheek before withdrawing quickly.

  
To say the boy was confused was an understatement. Where was the crushing blow? The vicious attack? He gave the man a look of absolute confusion, and something akin to amusement flashed in his one eye before he turned and strode back across the room. Without imminent death looming over him, the boy looked around, able to see more with the light from the trapdoor than he had previously been able to make out.

  
There was a pile of blankets against the wall, dirty, like the rest of the cave, that he assumed was the man’s bed. A flat outcropping or rock held various things, from scraps of cloth, to shards of metal, to what the boy realized, sickeningly, were bones. A dribbling noise caught his attention, and he turned his head, making out an underground stream that collected in a basin of water before escaping through a small hole in the ground.

  
Slowly sinking to the floor, the boy wrapped his arms around his knees, bringing them close to his body and watching the man as he sifted through a pile of objects on the table. When he turned and came closer, the boy tensed, but didn’t move. The man knelt, then held out something expectantly. Hesitating, the boy’s eyes flicked from the man’s hand to his face, making no move to take the unknown object from his hands. The man sighed and placed the object by his feet before standing and moving back across the room.

  
The boy didn’t move for a moment, unsure of whether or not to examine the thing, before he heard a voice. Looking up, he spotted the priest and the two guards looking in through the hole the trapdoor. As he looked up, the priest frowned and shut the door, leaving the room in darkness once more. It only lasted for a moment before a flame flickered into life. The boy looked over, in surprise, to the man who had lit a fire in a natural stone basin, using scraps of cloth and a liquid poured from a clay jar.

  
Looking back down at the object near his feet, he reached out to pick it up, unwrapping the cloth to find a strip of dried meat. Something in his stomach twisted as he realized it must be human. One of the last sacrifices the priest had brought to feed the… monster. He slowly looked up at the man who was staring evenly at him. Why hadn’t he been killed yet?

  
“Robin.” The boy said, softly. “My name is Robin.”

  
The man stared blankly at him, showing no signs of recognition. Standing, Robin crossed over, slowly approaching the man until he was close enough that the fire illuminated both of them. Pressing a hand to his own chest, he repeated his name, then reached out to point at the man.

  
“Slade.” The man’s voice was low, but musical. Not gruff or animalistic like Robin had imagined. The young boy slowly sat down, cross-legged, staring into the flames.  
“Do you understand me?” He asked, softly, looking up at Slade, who paused briefly before nodding. “Why haven’t you killed me?” Robin asked, causing the man to frown, looking almost hurt. He didn’t answer, merely shrugged, then gestured to the pile of blankets in the corner.

  
“I’m not tired.” Robin mumbled, despite being exhausted. It was one thing to trust Slade because he had no other choice, another entirely to fall asleep and let his guard down completely.

  
“Why… do they send you?” Slade asked, and Robin frowned.

  
“Just me?” Slade shook his head. “Everyone?” A nod. Robin sighed. “From what I’ve been taught, you’re seen as… a monster. The devil. Some ancient force.” He was interrupted by Slade’s chuckle, which made his spine tingle. It was a dark noise, but not unpleasant. “My people say you’re immortal. Unkillable and unaging. And as a result, you’re powerful.” Now the man was nodding, looking almost pleased. “So they somehow managed to capture you decades ago and locked you in this cave. Now, whenever someone goes against the laws of society, they are brought to you. Your darkness cleanses us of their sin.”

  
“Why send _you_?” He interrupted softly. Robin frowned, biting his lip.

  
“I… disobeyed my master.” He admitted, eyes stinging at the memory. “As a companion, doing anything against his wishes is… blasphemous.” Slade remained silent, and soon, Robin continued. “He asked me to… do something. That I couldn’t do. So I refused. He hit me. I foolishly assumed it ended there. Obviously not.”

  
Another low chuckle from Slade, which actually made Robin smile, although bitterly.

  
“So you are... subversive.” The man smirked, seeming pleased by this revelation.

  
“That’s one way of putting it.” Robin nodded.

  
“And that’s enough to sentence you to death?” Slade asked. “Why am I seen as the monster while the man who sent you here is considered holy?”

  
The question shocked the younger man into silence, and he sat, feeling numb panic creep over his body, unable to respond, or even think.

  
“Don’t.” The man’s voice broke his reverie, and his head snapped up, eyes wide. “I know exactly where your mind is going right now. You’re thinking of escape, or death, or how long you can live before you go insane. You’re wondering if I’m going to crush your skull the moment your back is turned. You’re thinking about killing me first.” Robin’s face flushed, betraying the truth of Slade’s words. Instead of taking offense, he smiled and nodded. “I understand. And I’d ask you don’t try to kill me because that would only make things messier. For you.”

  
The thinly veiled threat made Robin shiver, but he nodded. “I won’t.” His voice was quiet, but strong. Slade’s words had brought him back from the edge of panic. “Try to kill you, that is. Will the kindness be returned?”

  
Slade gave Robin a look that made the boy want to scream and run away, but instead he felt himself frozen in place. “I have no intention of killing you.” His voice was quiet, like Robin’s, but much darker, like his promise carried more weight than the other’s. “But you do need to sleep. Your head is fogged by panic and fear. Rest, then we’ll talk. I’ll explain things.”

  
Nodding robotically, he stood and padded over to the makeshift bed that Slade had indicated before. He sat down slowly, laying on his side so he could keep an eye on the monster of a man. That plan failed when the light was blown out. Robin tensed, but didn’t move, straining his ears to listen for movement. It sounded like Slade was walking around, but it was pitch black.

  
“How can you see?” Robin asked, flinching as his voice cut through the cave like a harsh bit of steel. There was silence in response before a soft snort broke the pause.

  
“Years and years and years of practice.” Slade intoned quietly. “Now rest, little bird. You don’t need light to sleep.”

  
With the strange pet name echoing in his ears, Robin gave into exhaustion, and fell asleep in the cavern of the beast.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin didn’t intend to die in this cave, whether by Slade’s hand, or starvation, or any other horror that could possibly befall him. 
> 
> He needed to make a plan.

Robin woke to the same pitch-blackness that he had fallen asleep to. The only difference was his own alertness. He really had needed sleep, and now that he had rested, he felt much less panicked. Straining his ears, he heard no sounds of movement, and assumed that Slade was asleep. Robin decided, on a whim, to keep his eyes shut, and keep still, just in case he was being watched.

 

He needed to make a plan.

           

            Robin didn’t intend to die in this cave, whether by Slade’s hand, or starvation, or any other horror that could possibly befall him. The trap door was too high for him to reach, and the walls were too smooth to climb. The outer door was locked, and well made, solid wood and wrought iron, nothing he could break. Even if he did, the labyrinth awaited him.

 

            It occurred to him that Slade had been trapped here for… eons? How long had the man really resided here? If he was a monster, an immortal being, than why hadn’t he been able to escape?

 

            A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach told Robin why. There was no escape.

 

            “Good morning, little bird.” The quiet baritone made Robin nearly jump out of his skin, and a low chuckle let him know that Slade had seen his reaction.

 

            “Is it morning?” Robin asked, embarrassed and annoyed at his display of weakness.

 

            “You are awake, so it is morning.” Slade answered cryptically. Robin tried not to roll his eyes in response. “The rise and fall of the sun holds little meaning when you cannot see it.”

           

            “I guess that makes sense...” Robin murmured. His stomach chose that moment to growl loudly, and he winced as he realized how hungry he was.

 

            “You should eat.” There was the sound of movement, and Robin could just make out the outline of Slade moving through the cave. A scraping noise preceded another small flame sparking to life, letting Robin see the cave once more.

 

            “I’m not hungry.” Robin lied blatantly, his stomach growling in protest as he eyed the strip of dried meat that he had cast aside the day before.

 

            “Drink, then.” Slade motioned to the trickling pool of water, offering Robin a small stone cup. He stood, crossing the room to carefully take it from Slade’s grasp, making sure their fingers didn’t brush. When Robin glanced at Slade’s face, he was surprised to see the man was smirking, his grey eye observing Robin amusedly.

 

            He clenched his teeth and knelt by the stream, his back to Slade as he filled the cup and drank until his stomach was full. Robin’s hunger was still present, but dulled, at least for the moment.

 

            “It’s not poisoned, you know.” Slade informed him softly. Robin placed the cup in front of the white haired man, giving him a confused look as he sat a safe arm’s length away from him. “The meat. It’s not poison. Safe to eat.”

 

            “I didn’t think it was.” Robin frowned. “That’s not why I have a problem with eating it.”

 

            “Then what problem do you have?” Slade arched an eyebrow as Robin gave him a look that clearly showed the fact that he thought Slade was absolutely crazy.

 

            “It’s… human.” Robin said slowly, face twisting in disgust. “I’m not going to eat human.”

 

            Slade stared at him, expression utterly blank. There was a long moment of tense silence in which Robin was convinced he had angered the man and was about to die horribly. Then Slade laughed. Deep, uproarious, unchecked, laughter. Robin didn’t know whether he should be relieved or even more afraid.

 

            “Human? What tales have your priests been spinning?” Slade’s laughter faded, but he continued smiling in unabashed amusement.

 

            “You… there’s bones everywhere!” Robin burst out. “People have been sent to this cave for decades, and there’s no one left, and you’re still alive, and there’s bones and you handed me meat… what was I supposed to think!?”

 

            Slade’s expression sobered as he considered this. Nodding slowly, he lowered his gaze. “I apologize.” He sounded sincere, which took Robin entirely off guard. “I had never considered how things must look from your point of view.”

 

            “My point of view? What other points of view are there?” Robin was still peeved at the fact that Slade had laughed at him, and he crossed his arms petulantly, not quite ready to forgive and forget.

 

            “The right one.” Slade tilted his head, gaze flicking up to meet Robin’s before darting away once more. “Promise me you’ll keep an open mind, and hear me entirely before you pass judgment, or ask questions.”

 

            Robin hesitated, still not sure if he should trust this… man, but he had nothing left to lose, so he slowly nodded in agreement.

 

            “No one has ever died in this cave, Robin.” Slade leaned in, voice soft and dark, full of secrets and truths that no one else knew. “And I am not a prisoner here. I can leave any time I like.”


End file.
